Epiphany
by Little Sister
Summary: SSHP Harry has an epiphany one day that changes his view on everything. Drabble.


Little Sister: Hello everyone! This is just a random drabble I was suddenly inspired with, which means that it may not make sense. It seems I can't write long stories, but random, almost plot-less drabble come to me easily. Not that it means that it's any _good_. :sigh: Anyway, I hope you enjoy this. I wanted to put this in a longer story, but then I have to actually come up with the longer story first, so, um, this will probably remain a drabble.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and friends do not belong to me. They belong to J. K. R. and whoever else is legally involved. The story idea is mine, though. If you sue me, that's all you're going to get, I'm afraid…:sobs: I'm so poor!

Note: Um, this is AU from the fifth and sixth books. I'm still in denial about Sirius…

**Epiphany**

Sometimes, the very thing you were searching for was standing there in front of you the whole time. Harry realized one day that that described his situation perfectly. How long had he been searching for someone who saw him for who he was and not the Boy-Who-Lived? How long had he yearned for someone he could trust not to love him one day and turn on him the next? Despite all of the hype attached to his name, he was well aware that the minds of the public were fickle. Hadn't they all turned on him during his second year? And during his 5th and 6th years, more and more people began to believe he was going to turn dark himself. Ignorance, he thought to himself, was _not_ bliss. He knew the difference between dark and evil. Being a dark wizard did not mean one was evil, as he well knew.

Then finally, at the end of 6th year (and it was almost an end-of-year ritual for Voldemort to try to kill Harry, wasn't it?) the Dark Lord was defeated. And just like that, predictably, everyone adored him again. Lauded his name throughout the towns and villages, celebrated his victory with parades and dinners and festivals and such. Never gave a thought to the others that helped Harry get to that point, or the others that had given their lives in the process. It made Harry sick sometimes to know that people refused to see the truth. How could he have done it himself? He was only a child, a teenager. Not nearly experienced enough to take on a Dark Lord who had, what, fifty plus years of experience on him? He may have been the one to deal the final blow, but it was only thanks to the careful planning and execution of said planning by the members of the Order of the Phoenix and the loyal Aurors who didn't follow Minister Fudge.

But through it all, there was someone who never changed his behaviour towards Harry, no matter what happened. And that was Severus Snape, Potions Master, ex-Death Eater-turned-spy, and all around snarky git. Forced to work together for extra lessons in Defense, Potions, and various combat techniques, Harry had acquired a healthy dose of respect for his dark-haired professor. He discovered that while his professor didn't exactly hate him because of his dad ("You are not a carbon copy of James, and if anyone tells you otherwise, they are complete idiots!"), he wasn't full to bursting with affection for Harry either ("I realize that with your foolish Gryffindor tendencies, you will do your utmost to run headfirst into danger and attempt to end your pathetic excuse for a life. However, as you are unfortunately the only one able to destroy the Dark Lord, do try and attempt to absorb some of this information into that vacuous space you call a mind!").

Despite all that, he had looked up from his cauldron Potions class one day, and just…stared. Snape was grading papers with a scowl on his face (nothing unusual about that!). He wasn't beautiful or handsome in the classical sense. He had sallow-looking skin from too many hours not spent in the sun, greasy hair from the protective mixture he used to coat his long locks, and his teeth were stained yellow from too much tea. Yet, the more Harry looked, the more he realized that the person he had been searching for was, in fact, sitting in front of him and no doubt writing scathing red-inked comments all over his homework. It was like a little bell going off in the depths of his soul, the resonating feeling of _rightness_ spreading through his body until he very nearly laughed aloud at how everything seemed to fall into place.

Severus never treated him differently, always challenging and goading him into doing better, to _prove_ himself. When everyone else turned on him, the Potions Master was there to give him the proverbial kick in the pants, in his own way telling Harry to stop moping and go do something about it. When Harry was in danger, who was there to get him to safety but Severus? He couldn't count the number of times the snarky man had saved his ass. And of course, there was the fact that he was beautiful, to Harry at least. 'Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.' That was very true. How could no one else see how beautiful Severus was inside? He was not a _nice_ man, per se, but he was a good one. He was intelligent, witty, unfailingly loyal, and had a great, if somewhat twisted and dark, sense of humour. It helped though, that Harry knew he had a delectable body. All that lean, hard muscle, not an ounce of fat on the man. Beneath those heavy, obscuring robes, the Potions Master was hiding a body of a god. Not that Harry had looked on _purpose_, he had just _happened_ to, er, accidentally walk in on Severus changing. He got kicked out on his ass and received an earful of invective, but it had been worth it.

As if sensing his gaze, Severus looked up from his papers, raising an eyebrow at him and glaring. Harry merely gave him a blinding smile, for the first time in a long time, feeling at peace with himself and the world in general. He was graduating in a few more months. Perhaps he would go out and see the world with his own eyes, give himself some time to grow up and explore. And then, he would come home, to Hogwarts. The Headmaster had already offered him a position on the staff. Yes, he was absolutely sure what he wanted, but it never hurt to be sure. He would come back, to his home, to Severus. And then he would go about securing his future. Smiling at his professor one last time, Harry turned his attention back to his potion. He would have to remember to give Severus something to think about while he was gone. Harry may have come to terms with his feelings, but he knew that it would take the stubborn man a bit more time to reach the same point. Well, it didn't really matter, did it? Wizards lived hundreds of years longer than muggles, and he was half Slytherin in any case. He would succeed.

He calmly added a pinch of pixie wings and stirred counter-clockwise, watching his potion turn the correct shade of pale purple. What a perfect day this was turning out to be!


End file.
